principle of decay
pressure exceeds all meaning and all that is down there
throughout the celestial empire, plans are never made, only
executed “if it was your life you’d care” faith
felled by death sounds echoes through man-
made caverns overhead, carnivorous birds circle I held
hands soiled by the erroneous belief in resurrection
or at least rest belies the concrete truth spelled out in shattered
craters made with bullets spent casings spread beneath
weave a heavy, unstable blanket, held together only by principle:
rapid decline, short lifetime properties of the radioactive I see
the truth: she was born of decay she came to a place not free
of blemish or flaw, naturally made by water nonsense
wounds heal when brushed with Chimayo dirt, not
spittle from a broken mouth and all that is down there
pressures meaning to reveal itself “I am
now a sojourner born of the reactive
violent by process and principle”
***
Kate Ingold is a visual artist and poet working in a variety of media, from stitched and etched drawings on digital photographs to new and recycled textiles, sculptural and video installation, and image/text collage. Her chapbook, Dream of Water, was published by the Poetry Society of America in 2008.
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